“Trapped”
Stone Butch Blues - Leslie Feinberg
@/lilboyblueish on Instagram
Poem by Keaton St. James (@boykeats)
I/Me/Myself - Will Wood
We Both Laughed In Pleasure by Lou Sullivan
cis people asking cis questions by Silas Denver Melvin (@sweatermuppet)
Tomboy Survival Guide by Ivan Coyote
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For the yes/no ask game: If you were interested in picking berries and learned all the good spots in your area to collect from, of which there happened to be many, and you found yourself falling into a little community of berry pickers, where you trade locations, recipes, and knowledge of berries, and one day you heard of a little local legend about a lost grove that's supposed to have some of the most delicious berries but no one remembers the path since the markers for it were washed away one particularly strong storm, only a general area of where it might be is recalled, but you're intrigued, so armed with what little information you have and boatload of determination, you pack yourself a little picnic and decide to make a day of it, hiking out to the spot, and it takes the better part of a morning, mostly because you keep stopping to check for berries, but by noon you've reached a place you're pretty sure must be it because the bushes are so high and thick they seem to be trying to drown out the sky itself and the berries (which you one hundred and ten percent recognize 'cause you're cool like that) are plentiful as expected, so you get to work filling your basket and while you're collecting you stumble across a couple little neat trinkets you decide to pocket as well (a spinning top, a key, a dog tag, and an old useless walkie-talkie) and before long you've filled your basket and you start your trek back following your markers, only to see a door halfway back, standing in a frame in the middle of a clearing of a thicket, so, obviously intrigued, you wander over to give a closer look, it's old, vines climbing the brick around the frame, it's closed and the door is painted black, when you try the handle you see it is locked, when you go to the other side you see the door is white, and when you try the handle the same applies, even when you rattle it nothing happens and while you chew on a berry and think on this problem you remember the key you found earlier, and having nothing better to do you dig it out and try it, to find to your delight that it does indeed open, you take the key back out and step through the doorway, closing the door behind you, you try the key on the black side, but it doesn't work, so you shrug and pocket the key once more, returning to your journey out of the woods, only...where are the path markers you tied on the way in?
You wouldn't say you're lost quite yet, but you hurry along the path you're sure you took anyway and you make it out, but your way home is missing, you let out a noise of frustration, you've been robbed, but you have no cell service here so you start walking, luckily home isn't too far, but it is tiring, and by the time you make it to town it's mid-afternoon, you're tired, yet satisfied with your haul, but as you walk into town you make a very disturbing observation, this is not your town, the streets are strange, the architecture too, you make it to where your house should be and there is no building, instead the place is a garden, there are people, tall with long dark hair, and you wave to them to ask where you are, obviously you've made a wrong turn somewhere, but as they come close they seem confused by you and your words, when they speak the language is harsh and punctuated by chirps, like nothing you've ever heard, you can't understand them, so you politely apologize as best you can and try to speak to the next person walking down the road, but with the same results, you try again and again, each time you fail to communicate a sense of unease quickly turning to dread fills you, you can't even find common words in any language you know or gestures with those who try to communicate with you, eventually you find yourself sitting alone outside of town, evening will be here soon, you put away your phone, which you noticed earlier hasn't had service all day, and your fingers brush against the key from the Door, despite how bizarre it sounds, you are struck with the hypothesis that it may be the source of your current mishap, after a long bout of debate, deliberating your options, you decide to try going back to the Door, while it might be a waste of time, it couldn't hurt and maybe you'd solve this problem while walking anyway, so you head back, much more direct than the first time, but it's still dusk by the time you make it, the doorway is just as you left it, you try the key in the lock on the black side of the door again, to no avail, you bang on the door, kick it, try to pick the lock, eventually you circle around to the white side, this time when you try the key, it opens, but when you look through you are certain that is not your world, do you walk through?
No.
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having thoughts about nine, and i think one of the biggest things i would personally do to fix him and his role in the story (without making him a flat out villain) is to change the core theme of his character from 'missing stair will not and should not ever be held accountable for their actions,' to:
cruelty and defiance are not the same thing. existing out of spite is not an evil thing; refusing to lay down your weapons under the guise of being small and soft and palatable is not evil; defending yourself and others from being wiped out or made less than you are is not evil. it is not cruel. making good on 'fuck around and find out' can be one of the most important things you will ever do.
and because it's not cruel, it does not excuse cruelty. 'kind does not mean nice' doesn't mean 'cruelty is acceptable as long as it's for a Good Cause'; it also doesn't mean that cruelty in some instances and kindness in others balance each other out. if anything, the latter just ends up becoming part of the former with a different face. it doesn't matter how soft or palatable or loud and rough-edged you are: either your worldview is built on kindness or it isn't, and that will show in how you act on it no matter how hard you try to quarantine one philosophy from the other.
there are lots of other things i'd change; a major one being to pull the fuck up on said cruelty by a LOT, holy shit. as well, don't make him abusive, whether as a) a tactical abuser who pretends his trauma took out the filter he absolutely still has, or b) someone whose trauma has taken out their filter, and left them a disoriented, barely functioning wreck with no idea what the hell is going on inside or outside their own head; whose confused flailing manifests as lashing out in abusive ways, and who wants to do better, and would actually improve with both help and accountability for their actions. that last one has worth as a narrative, but it requires pulling on the sensitivity gloves so far up your arms that it's just a whole spandex suit, and these writers have well and truly proven they are just not fucking capable of that lmao
but in the end, one of the things that does absolutely have to change is that his character has to have a point other than getting away with being a missing stair. there might be other ways to write him as a static character and still a good one; they do have their place! but given that the conventions of the genre would generally involve a growth arc for a character like him, i feel like this interpretation is one that probably falls closest to what they were actually going for.
(or at least, what they wanted to trick the audience into thinking they were going for. lol)
anyway yeah, i have a piggy bank full of cents about this and that is two of them. tl;dr justice for nine, we could have had it all
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